The Bachelor Duke
by Age of Edward Contest
Summary: For so many years he lived his life by the name they had given him, afraid he would become a monster like his father. Everything changed the night he saw her from across the room. Dukeward.


**The Bachelor Duke**

 _The author does not own any publicly recognizable entities herein. No copyright infringement is intended._

 _April 1818_

 _ **Edward**_

Bouncing through the rough streets of London, my coach is taking me to the Debutante Ball given by the Eighth Earl of Forkshire, Charles Swan, in honor of his daughter and his niece. I rarely make an appearance at these events in fear the Ton would think I'm in search of a wife. However, I am willing to make an exception this one time; Charles and I are in Parliament together and we've become close this session as we rallied for the same tax laws. He invited me as a personal favor and I, of course, accepted.

The rapping on the carriage door alerts me to my arrival at The Earl's London estate. The front entrance bustles with all of England's Gentry and they turn to spy on the latest guest. Once they spot my family's crest, the whispering ensues. I take a deep breath, readying myself for the rumors that will surround my attendance.

My coachman, Michael, opens the door and I embark with my usual air of importance. I walk through the mass and they automatically part for me.

I bow my head in acknowledgment as the term 'Your Grace' is whispered throughout. Reaching the entranceway to the ballroom, I see The Earl and his wife stand greeting guests. His wife notices me and politely, but firmly, ushers whom she is speaking with along. It is a very well done maneuver and the way she skillfully handled the situation was spectacular. Charles has done well in his choice of a bride.

"Ah, Your Grace, I am delighted you were able to join us," Charles says bowing to me.

"Come now Charles, none of this 'Your Grace' nonsense." I turn and bow to his wife and she offers me her hand delicately. "A pleasure to make your acquaintance, My Lady. I cannot dare believe you have a daughter grown. You look as if you've just had your own 'coming out debut.'"

She giggles gracefully "Your Grace, you are too kind, but I assure you, once you set eyes upon my Isabella you will know the true definition of youth and beauty."

She says this with great pride and without any intention of pawning her daughter on me. I possess a sharp eye, and can immediately tell when a mother is working deceitfully.

"With you as her mother, I am sure she is a vision. Charles is truly blessed." I give them both a final bow.

"You old rake. I'm starting to believe the rumors." He gives me a playful wink.

I leave him and his wife chuckling. Although Charles is my elder, I greatly enjoy his company and have found myself sharing a brandy or two at White's with him. I walk by several people who try to engage me in conversation, but I move on in search of my cousins, McCarty, and Whit.

McCarty, The Ninth Marquis of Winchester and his wife, The Marchioness of Winchester, Jessica, live for the London season. They have been wed these last two years and their marriage is not at all a love match. Whit, The Marquis of Hertford, is a bachelor, but unlike me, he is actively seeking a bride.

Spotting my cousin's wife surrounded by hungry looking gentleman is nothing new to my eyes – they have a strange arrangement. He is allowed his mistresses and she may take on a lover as long as neither results in an illegitimate child.

Searching the vast home for my closest companions, I glance around enjoying the general splendor of the house. A crystal chandelier hangs in the center of the main ballroom; the ceiling is painted with scenes of heavenly angels in the middle of a battle. It is a beautiful place, a great deal smaller than what I, myself, am accustomed to, but The Earl has provided well for his family.

"Good heavens, Whit, have my eyes failed me? I do believe Edward Masen, The Duke of Devonshire, has made an appearance." McCarty's boisterous voice causes the gentry to gaze in my direction.

Whit tips back his glass, downing the port like a brute. "I'll say it is Masen. Edward, old boy, what brings you to a ball? Dare I ask are you hoping to find the next Duchess of Devonshire?"

I raise a brow at him while I procure my own glass of port from a server. "For heaven's sake, Whit, don't be cork-brained. You wouldn't want to give Mothers false hope now, would we?"

"Come now, Masen, there's nothing wrong in raising the expectations of mothers throughout England. I dare say that Jessica's mum will be solely disappointed." McCarty tilts his head toward his wife.

"Ahh, I'm sorry to disappoint your mother-in-law, but I am not in want for a Duchess. My friend simply requested my company at his daughter and niece's coming out and I saw no reason not to oblige him."

"Come tell me Whit, which one of these bonny lasses do you have your eye on?" I sip the Port in my glass.

"Truth be told, my eyes and heart are set upon the niece, Miss Alice Brandon. She is the loveliest creature I've ever had the pleasure to behold." He has a wispy sort of look on his face and I envy him for a second.

I am content to die a bachelor. My family history is not a happy one with infidelity on both sides, thanks to my infamous parents. It is no secret that my parents, The Duke, and Duchess of Devonshire had a liaison with Lady Esme Platt for two decades. Although, I would never treat a lady the way my father treated both my mother and Esme, without Esme in my life, I feel I would be a terrible rake like my father was before me.

When my mother, Elizabeth, the famous Duchess of Devonshire passed away so young leaving me behind, Mother Es, as I affectionately call the woman who was a lover to both my parents, raised me as her own son. Soon after my father, Edward Sr. passed and I was an orphan.

"Upon my word, Whit, you think yourself in love with this woman-child?" McCarty, never one to skirt around the issue, asks.

At that moment, a tinkling bell rings, ushering everyone into the upper rooms. Charles stands in the center, a wide smile on his face.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, it gives me great pleasure to introduce to society my niece, Miss Alice Claire Brandon." He holds out his right hand and a beautiful slip of a woman walks into the room.

Beside me, I hear Whit's breath catch and I glance over at him. He stares at this lovely creature as if she was the last woman in the world. I turn away feeling as if I have intruded on an intimate moment.

Once the crowd quiets, Charles' smile grows wider. "It is also my great pleasure to present my daughter, Miss Isabella Marie Swan."

She enters with the grace of someone twice her age. Her beautiful brown hair is up in an intricate style. Her skin is porcelain, and she has the look of a doll. Her lips are naturally pink and they have a slight pout. Her nose is a perfect button and the most hypnotic pair of brown eyes I've ever seen stares out into the gathered assembly.

Yes, Lady Renee was correct; her daughter is the definition of both youth and beauty. My heart stops, my mouth runs dry and there is a waltz playing in my stomach. Not to mention the hardening of a certain member of my anatomy.

My Lord! I've never felt anything like this in all my years.

"Careful now Masen. The way you are looking, one would think the new Duchess of Devonshire has just entered your heart." Whit shoves me playfully.

Bloody hell. I do believe he is right.

 _ **Isabella**_

The ball is a great success. I have danced with a number of young gentlemen and although none of them have tickled my fancy, I would not turn any of them down as a husband. I am fully aware of my duty; I know a love match amongst the gentry is very rare. One can only hope for an amiable companion, a mutual respect that will grow into love.

Sipping on my glass of sherry, I spot Alice dancing with The Marquis of Hertford, Jasper Whitlock. She has her heart set on him and I envy her because it seems that the feeling is mutual. These past few hours have seen my dance card full, but finally, I am able to take a breather.

Catching my father's eye as he speaks to the Bachelor Duke, he motions me over. I join them hesitantly. Rumor has it that The Duke is an unpleasant sort.

"Ah, here she is. The Duke of Devonshire, may I present my daughter Isabella." My father reaches for my hand proudly.

The Duke bows gracefully. He is indeed the most handsome man I've ever seen. The deep frown in his brow makes it seem as if he is trying to solve a great puzzle. His dark green eyes bore into my very soul and I am instantly uncomfortable. I've never felt this in all my years.

"Miss Isabella, it is an honor to make your acquaintance." His smile is tight as he bows his head in my direction.

"Thank you, Your Grace. I am delighted that you were able to join us." I give him a smile.

The current set comes to a close with a round of applause and my father turns to The Duke.

"Your Grace. Would you please do me the great honor and accompany Isabella in the next set?" Father asks with mischief in his eyes.

The Duke seems to ponder the idea for a mere second and then smiles at me.

"If the lady agrees, it would be a great honor," He says, smoothly.

"It would be my pleasure, Your Grace." I curtsey to him.

Taking me by the hand, he leads me onto the floor with the other partners. Suddenly, the room seems much smaller as all eyes fall upon us. Heads gently lean towards each other and the sound of whispers fill the room. I'm momentarily frozen until The Duke gently pushes me forward.

"Ignore them. They have nothing better to do than to whisper about the Bachelor Duke," he whispers.

I giggle gently, not believing that he had the audacity to use his very popular nickname. We take our places on the floor, facing each other. The ladies curtsey to their partners, then the gentlemen bows. Once my hand makes contact with The Duke's, butterflies dance in my stomach and my fingertips buzz.

The Duke of Devonshire is a somber sort of fellow. He never breaks eye contact with me during our dance, nor does he try to engage me in polite conversation. The entire waltz my heart seems to want to beat out of my chest.

I am very aware of him being so close to my person. His sturdy build and tall stature only add to the puzzle that is The Duke of Devonshire. I quite enjoy being in his arms, the feel of him towering over me as his eyes penetrate my very being.

My body is abuzz as I feel The Duke's thumb rub circles in the center of my palm. The act itself seems very personal and dare I say erotic. My eyes never move from his. My lips part, taking a much-needed breath; the one I've been holding since I began to dance with this perfect specimen of a man.

Once the dance ends, I place my hand in his and he escorts me off the dance floor. I can't explain the creeping dread I am feeling with the idea of parting from him.

Once we reach my father, The Duke turns to me, a severe smile on his handsome face. "Thank you, my lady. It was most enjoyable."

Before I can answer gracefully, Baron Cromwell, James Hunter, interrupts us. The Baron bows to me and acknowledges The Duke.

"I see you've kept my partner warm for me Masen; good man." He pats The Duke on the back and I have the distinct impression that if I were not standing amongst the gentlemen, he would've actually done The Baron harm.

The Duke bows to us all. "If you will excuse me."

I watch as The Bachelor Duke walks away. My soul feels as if it has died and I rapidly blink back tears. The thought of never seeing him again or knowing that I hold no interest to him at all wounds me greatly.

I haven't the slightest idea why I care; it is no secret that he will never marry.

 _ **Edward**_

That insufferable ass, the nerve of him to basically come and claim her as his own. I must speak with Charles immediately concerning Baron Cromwell; he is the worst sort of fellow and does not deserve to be connected to such an angel.

Although I have never been one to believe rumors associated with members of our society, I actually was close to the rake when we attended University **,** so I know firsthand of his diabolical ways.

Not wanting to give much thought to my reaction to Baron Cromwell and Miss Isabella. I go in search for my companions only to be stopped by my surrogate mother.

"My darling boy, dare I hope that a certain Lady has caught your special attention. I've never known you to participate in the mundane task of dancing." Her arm gracefully intertwines with mine.

We take a turn around the large room and I try to ignore her obvious observation.

"Do not brood, Edward. I saw how you looked upon her. You know that business with your mother, father and me was very tacky indeed, but there is no reason why you wouldn't have a perfectly normal marriage." I turn to her aghast with the topic.

"Mother Es, I do not think this is an appropriate topic." I try to explain.

"Do not tell me what is appropriate, I raised you, have you forgotten? The point my darling boy is that you cannot let our lives dictate yours. You are not your father, Edward. The Late Duke of Devonshire was a great deal of things, but kind and gentle he was not." Her smile is one that has always comforted me in the past.

"Ah, I should've known it was you who stole my wife, Edward," Carlisle says as he hands Mother Es a glass of Sherry.

Carlisle was an untitled Lord that came across Esme one afternoon. Esme lost a wheel while on a trip. Luck was upon her as Carlisle was out for a ride on one of his prize stallions.

It apparently was love at first sight, and since she has enough money for both of them, his rank or lack of a title was no concern of hers.

"Carlisle, I see Mother Es has forced you to yet another ball. How are you fairing, old boy?" I tilt my head towards him.

"I dare not complain about such things with a lovely companion as your mother." At the word _mother,_ several eyes fall upon us as their heads immediately join to gossip.

It is no secret that Esme is like a mother to me. I see no reason to shun her or pretend otherwise.

Spotting Whit and McCarty, I turn toward the happy older couple. To find love at such a grand age must have brought them both a great peace.

"Mother Es, Carlisle. I must bid you farewell." I bow.

Esme takes a firm grip on my arm. "Surely, you wouldn't leave without partaking in another dance with a certain lady."

I lean down placing a kiss on her cheek. "Now Mother Es, do not try your hand at matchmaking. You know how I detest it."

"I would never, Darling," she says as she gives me a sly smile.

I bid them farewell. I find Whit and McCarty speaking with Miss Alice.

Upon noticing me, Alice curtseys. "Your Grace, it is an honor to have your presence in our home."

"Miss Alice, it is I who am honored to be invited to such an event. Congratulations on your coming out."

Before another word is said, Isabella and Baron Cromwell join our party. Bows and curtseys are given.

Isabella and I exchange hesitant looks that cause my body to stir.

I turn to address Whit and McCarty, "I take my leave of you." Turning to Miss Alice and Miss Isabella. "Ladies, if you will excuse me. Please accept my sincere congratulations."

I leave the small group, not being able to stomach the sight of James and Isabella together.

 _ **Isabella**_

Watching The Duke of Devonshire take his leave feels as if a knife is twisting in my lower abdomen, all over again. Every time he departs from my presence, I feel it is the last time.

I stare off into space, smiling as Baron Cromwell speaks of his estate. The Baron is a pleasant fellow and I know he has hopes to ask for my hand, but I do not think I will accept him.

Indeed, after being in the presence of The Duke of Devonshire, I am afraid that I am ruined for any other gentleman. But I mustn't let this fancy get to me. His Grace is not the sort of gentleman to settle down. I am no fool; I know that the probability of securing an engagement with The Duke is nonexistent.

The rest of the evening is spent dancing and in polite conversation with a number of eligible gentlemen. Alice has not left the side of The Marquis of Hertford, and she suspects he will officially ask for an audience with my father.

I am in the middle of a conversation with my mother and a few other ladies when the Lady Esmeralda Platt, joins our circle. The women seem to raise their noses at her, she ignores it all and I envy her decorum.

"Excuse me, Lady Renee, may I borrow your daughter. I would like to take a turn around the room and would very much enjoy her youth." She says smiling at me.

"Of course, Lady Esmeralda it would be an honor." My mother answers.

Lady Esmeralda slides her arm through mine and gently but firmly guides me around the room. We are silent for a moment taking in the general splendor.

The room seems to be abuzz by the mere sight of us. I notice both a multitude of gentleman and ladies whispering in our direction.

It is all highly unusual and I cannot fathom the cause.

"My Lady, you do me a great honor. May I ask why you sought me out as a companion?" I ask.

"My dear, I couldn't help but to notice you dancing with my son earlier."

"I'm sorry, my Lady but pray tell, who is your son?" I ask, wondering.

I was not aware that the Lady indeed had a son.

"The Duke of Devonshire, Edward Masen." I stop abruptly, but she gently but firmly continues with our stroll. "I call him my son because I raised him since he was a boy and I love him as such. I could not help but to notice the two of you dancing earlier, and as his only mother, I must tell you it brought me great joy to witness such." Her smile is sincere.

I shake my head, taking an unsteady breath. "Lady Esmeralda, I can assure you there is no understanding between The Duke and I. It was only a dance; I would not want to give you false hope."

"My dear, I know what I witnessed. Trust me, there is an attachment there and I urge you not to let anything deter you from a union with my Edward. He is a darling man, but I admit he does not have a very friendly disposition. I urge you to see past the mask he has put up for society. I dare say you will be surprised at what you will uncover."

She is interrupted by a pleasant looking older gentleman as we continue our turn around the room.

"Darling, are you ready to take our leave?" he asks her, his eyes twinkling.

"Yes, I am. Please allow me to introduce Miss Isabella Swan. Miss Isabella, my husband Lord Cullen."

I curtsey in greeting, giving them both a warm smile. "My Lady, thank you for coming and your kind advice."

"It was my pleasure, Isabella. I look forward to furthering our acquaintance in the near future." She shocks me by placing a small peck on my cheek.

This simple move seems to have caused a commotion within the Ton.

Later that night as I lay alone, my mind wandered to a pair of fine green eyes and a chest so broad my arms could not fit around him. Of a chin so sharp, it could cut away any doubt and hair barely maintained by pomade. All these traits formed into one magnificent being.

The Duke of Devonshire.

 _ **Edward**_

It has been one day since the ball and I find myself on edge and in unfamiliar territory. I have heard talk of several gentleman intending to make an offer of courtship to Isabella.

Whit has indeed made an offer of to Miss Alice as I wait, but for what I do not know. All I know is that Isabella mustn't fall prey to Baron Cromwell. I take a sip of my brandy, trying to gain the courage to go to The Earl's London's home and make a proper offer of courtship.

Once we are married, she will be protected, and I am sure we will form a mutual attachment. I dare not stand aside and let Cromwell have his way with her.

Visions of the women he took advantage of at University attack my personage and my resolve strengthens.

I ring the bell. My steward Jenks comes into the sitting room. "Sir?" He bows gracefully.

"Jenks, please have Michael bring around the carriage," I tell him.

"Yes, sir. Right away."

 **~~TBD~~**

I enter the London house of The Earl of Forkshire, and watch as the staff bustles around with fresh flowers and shined silver. I wait just outside the doors as the butler announces me.

"His Grace, The Duke of Devonshire."

I enter to find Lady Renee, Miss Alice, and Miss Isabella assembled along with my very dearest friend, The Marquis of Herford.

All eyes fall upon me as I enter the room with the stiff grace taught to me by my father.

Whit raises an eyebrow in question when he sees me enter. Everyone stands, and then continue with the usual bowing and curtseying.

"Your Grace, what an honor. Please do sit." The Lady Renee offers an empty seat next to Miss Isabella.

"Your Grace, I believe you may know The Marquis of Herford." She tilts her head towards Whit.

"Aha! Yes, I've had the unfortunate pleasure of him being one of my closest companions," I tell them causing the ladies to giggle delightfully.

"Here I thought I was the unfortunate one," Whit says, performing as if he is doing a Shakespearean play.

"You, my dear fellow, are very lucky indeed, for The Duke of Devonshire does not take on friends freely as so I hear from the Ton."

"Finally, you speak the truth, Masen … I'm sorry Your Grace-" Whit tries to collect himself.

"None of that man, we are amongst friends." My eyes drift over to the jittery form of Miss Isabella.

She is exquisite in the early afternoon light.

"Are you well, Your Grace? You left the ball so abruptly; I worried for your well-being." Isabella's angelic voice sings beside me.

"I assure you, Miss Isabella, I am quite well. Occasions such as balls and parties rarely hold my attention long," I tell her directly.

She stiffens under my harsh word and before she can reply, her mother interrupts.

"Your Grace, The Marquis was going to take the ladies for a turn around Hyde Park. Perhaps you would be so kind to join them?" The Lady suggests.

"It would be my honor to escort you, Miss Isabella, if you would allow me?" I bow my head toher.

I can feel myself perspiring. It is an odd feeling indeed, as I rarely find myself losing control. Miss Isabella smiles at me, and then both sheand her cousin rise.

"That would be lovely, Your Grace. We will return shortly, we must prepare for the weather," Isabella says before she leaves the room with her mother and cousin.

"Good God, man, have you gone mad?" Whit asks rising to stride towards me.

"Whatever could you mean?" I ask, feigning indifference.

"What I mean is that I have known you since infancy and you have never made a call to a Lady. Dare I say you are smitten with the Miss Isabella?" The look upon his personage irritates me.

"I am not smitten. I do not know what I am. Until I myself figure it out, I beseech you to refrain from idle gossip," I ask him sincerely.

"As you command, Edward. I only wish you great happiness," He says.

The ladies return with their pelisses and parasols. We bid the Lady Renee adieu and take off for our afternoon turn.

Whit and Miss Alice are a great distance ahead when a carriage pulls up and the Baron of Cromwell steps out sneering at us.

"Ahh, Miss Isabella, I was just going to pay you a call but I dare say The Duke has made a claim." The Baron can barely contain the disgust in his voice.

"Baron Cromwell, thank you for calling, I am sorry The Duke and I were accompanying my cousin and The Marquis of Herford on a turn." She says this with a great deal of niceties, but I can see the relief upon her person.

"Indeed. May I call upon you on the morrow?" he asks, his beady little eyes greedily roaming her delicate features.

A primal instinct takes over my very person, "I'm sorry, but the Lady is engaged on the morrow and the morrow after that. I dare say she is off the marriage mart. Good day, Baron."

Shocking both The Baron and Miss Isabella with my declaration, I firmly lead her behind Whit and Miss Alice, who had stopped to enjoy the general splendor of the day.

 _ **Isabella**_

Upon my word! I believe The Duke has just announced to The Baron that he and I shall be an item. This cannot be. It is not to be born. I dare say The Duke is indifferent towards me. He barely notices me and we only danced once and that was at the insistence of Father.

Could the Lady Esmeralda have been correct in her observation?

"If I have overstepped, please accept my sincere apology," he says gently.

"Pray tell, Your Grace-"

"Edward. Please call me Edward." His name is but a whisper upon firm lips, but the declaration is clear.

"Of course, Edward, and please call me Bella," I tell him with the hint of a smile. "Edward, pray tell, what is the meaning behind your statement to The Baron? If I may be so bold?"

We walk in silence, the breeze tickling our faces. It feels wonderful against my skin and a few loose hairs escape the intricate bun Angela created this morning. The sounds of my slippers and his shoes dance through the air. I notice the looks of the gentry as we pass; whispers of 'Your Grace' fill the silence.

Edward is a very proper and serious sort of fellow. There are times when I cannot form a suitable opinion of him. His declaration and claim in front of the Baron was a tad bit exhilarating. The very thought of belonging to such a man causes tingles to dance on my toes.

"Miss … Bella, I would like to ask permission to speak to your father. If I shall be so bold." The twinkle in his green eyes ceases all doubt.

Maybe the Lady Esme was correct; The Duke does have feelings for me but is unable to show affection freely. Therefore, I shall allow him to court me and we will grow together, but I dare say _my_ affection needs no encouragement.

"Yes, Edward, I would like very much if you were to speak to father."

The remainder of the walk is spent discussing my childhood, how Alice joined us when we were very young. I describe my home in Forkshire down to my meadow where I would spend hours reading alone. He is a discerning listener, commenting when there is a pause, nodding to acknowledge that he is indeed engaged.

Talk turns of Chatsworth Castle and Devonshire. Edward speaks excitedly on the renovations

I am shocked that I speak so freely in front of him. There is an understanding between us and I do not know where it has stemmed from, but I quite enjoy it.

Upon arriving home, Edward requests an audience with Father while my mother escorts me to her apartment. She is practically giddy with anticipation as we sit on the chaise.

"Mama, please calm yourself," I tell her, placing a hand on her bouncing knee.

"My dear girl, I can hardly contain my joy. A Duke, and not just any Duke, but The Duke of Devonshire." Her excitement is uncontainable.

"I admit that he is a magnificent specimen, but I cannot help but to wonder about his true feelings. Tis one of the reasons I so readily accepted his offer of courtship. That we may discover each other." I tell her gently.

"My dear, that is very wise and I dare say a marriage proposal will be on the horizon. You mustn't worry yourself; all will come together for the greater good. Look at your father and me." Her smile and the hope in her countenance give me peace.

My parents were not a love-match. In fact, their union was arranged without their knowledge. They met only twice before their wedding. My mother says the first year was difficult but they prevailed and by the time I was conceived, two years after they wed, their mutual respect had grown into love.

I have always hoped that my own marriage would mirror theirs, but having seen the devotion of Alice and The Marquis, I can't help but to wish for more.

Wishing for more is what made me so readily accept The Duke. There is something in the air when he is near me, my very being ignites, and having him claim me so passionately to the Baron had nearly caused me to swoon.

 _ **Edward**_

Sitting in White's with Whit, I take a sip of my brandy, letting the dark liquid sooth my nerves. I have gone and gotten myself in a courtship with Miss Isabella Swan. I do not know what came over me when The Baron came to call on her. An animal took over my very being, and all I know is that Bella has given me a gift in permitting me to court her.

I know not how to court a Lady. I should end this farce while I still have time, while Bella can be saved from scandal, but the very idea of not being able to be near her, to stare into her deep chocolate eyes brings a pain to my heart like no other. I could not purposely cause her harm. I wanted to protect her from The Baron this is true, but all has changed. Isabella has sealed both of our fates for life.

It is my new mission in life to make Isabella Swan the next Duchess of Devonshire.

McCarty takes the empty chair next to Whit. He looks forlorn and withdrawn. Before I can inquire on his disposition, The Baron himself strolls over to our table.

"I dare say, you were not interested in the little whore until you saw my intentions towards her. Come now, Masen, back out now so that Miss Isabella and her fifty thousand pounds belong to me." He sneers in a very ungentlemanly-like manner.

I stand so that we are toe to toe. "I dare say, James, that will never happen. She will not be one of your conquests like the ladies at University. I will say this once, stay away from my intended."

"This will not be the last you hear from me. Mark my words." He storms out of the club.

I sit down to find both Whit and McCarty's eyes on me.

"Would someone tell me what the bloody hell is going on?" McCarty insists.

Several eyes fall on us, but they quickly look away when they see that it is I at the table.

"Calm yourself, man," Whit tells him.

I take a sip of my brandy before turning my attention to him. "I have entered a courtship with Miss Isabella Swan."

"Surely you jest. Come now Whit, tell me he jests." McCarty takes in our serious demeanor.

"Tis no jest. I am now in a courtship, also. I am sorry that this may cause a riff with your mother-in-law."

Taking in a deep gust of air, he picks up my brandy for his own and consumes the remainder.

"I am afraid there may be other matters that disturb my mother-in-law's delicate disposition."

Whit leans into him.

"Such as?"

"I am not at liberty to say. Come, let us order another round and celebrate Masen and Isabella. God save the dear girl!"

 _ **Isabella**_

It has been a sennight since my courtship with The Duke of Devonshire began. I find myself under intense scrutiny by the Ton. Being the center of attention is not something I aspire to.

Edward and I are currently at the ball of the Lady Wessex. It seems as if we cannot escape our hosts, so overwhelmed she is that The Duke of Devonshire would grace her ball with his presence.

"Upon my word! You pay me the highest of honors, now tell me for true, Your Grace. Are we to expect wedding bells soon? You and Miss Isabella here, are the very talk of the town and they say it is so." Lady Wessex, says excitedly.

"Yes, everyone is talking," The Lady Esmeralda, says as she glares at Edward.

The Lady Wessex takes her leave of our small party. Edward becomes fidgety under Lady Esmeralda scrutiny. He looks like a little boy that has been discovered keeping a secret.

"Imagine having to learn about your own son's courtship from the Ton gossip mill. It is not to be born, Edward. I have never felt less like your mother as I do now." She blots at her eyes.

There are no tears in sight, but the simple act causes a look of horror to cross Edward's serene face.

"Mother Es, please do not be cross with me. Our courtship has just begun. Had I known you would take offense I would've sent word immediately." He pleads with her.

"I guess the sight of this beautiful creature on your arm can thaw my cold heart to forgive you this one time. If I have to learn of an engagement from the Ton, I shall bend you over my knee." She turns to me. "My darling girl!"

I curtsy, "Lady Esmeralda, it is wonderful to see you again."

"None of this Lady Esmeralda nonsense. Hopefully, soon you can call me Mother Es as well." She winks at Edward causing his ears to turn a deep shade of red.

Her husband joins us with a glass of sherry. "Ah, Edward, I'm surprised to find you still alive. Your mother has been very upset with you. Isabella, you are a vision. Now, tell me, is this rake treating you properly?"

I give him a wicked smile, stroking Edward's forearm. "He tries to misbehave, but I assure you I can handle his impertinence."

"I dare say you most certainly can, and if he gives you any trouble you are to send for me straight away." Lady Esme informs me.

Soon, The Marquis of Hertford, Alice, The Marques of Winchester and his wife join our small party.

The Marchioness of Winchester is a silly Lady, who smiles at every gentleman who is not her husband. The air amongst her person is sickly sweet and I find myself struggling to breathe freely in her presence.

"Miss Isabella, it is an honor to meet the Lady who has secured the special attention of His Grace. You must confess to me how you succeeded in such a task," The Marchioness says.

"I dare say, my dear, she did nothing but grace him with her lovely smile. I, for one, am very happy for you Masen." The Marquis of Winchester smiles joyfully, lifting his glass in salute of us.

"Thank you, McCarty. I am indeed among the happiest of men." Edward's eyes meet mine, causing butterflies to dance in my belly and heat to rise upon my person.

A new set begins and Edward turns to me, bowing gracefully. "Will you do me the honor?"

"Of course, Your Grace-" He raises an eyebrow at me, "… Edward."

We join the other couples on the dance floor. Standing face to face my eyes dance over his features, and my heart thumps wildly. The orchestra begins and we step towards each other. Our hands barely touch as we twirl around staring into the other's eyes.

The room disappears.

I am stuck in the heated gaze of Edward Masen. There is no title, no Ton, and no gossipers.

There is no one but the two of us and as we end the dance, we lock gazes.

That is the day that I knew I would marry Edward Masen, The Sixth Duke of Devonshire.

 _ **Edward**_

I stand nervously in St. Paul's Cathedral. Whit and Miss Alice seal their forever with a sweet peck. I find myself gazing over at Bella. She gives me a shy smile.

I am a changed man.

These past days have been a tug on my sensibilities. Never have I wanted to possess a Lady's body and soul as I do Isabella.

The wedding breakfast is a joyous occasion. Feasting on rolls, toast, eggs, ham, tongue, a delicious fish, tea and wedding cake as conversation flows freely delights me to no end. The bride and groom are as happy a pair as I've ever seen. Their happiness is contagious to all guests and I find myself anticipating my own wedding day.

The only guest who seems immune to the couple's happiness is McCarty.

McCarty is not himself as he drinks an extensive amount of brandy. I try to catch his attention, but he ignores my advances. It seems he is set to stew in his own misery.

Once the meal is eaten, the guests all scatter to the waiting chaise to bid the couple adieu.

Whit comes over hugging me. "Thank you for standing up with me. It will be my honor to stand beside you when it is your turn."

"I shall hold you to it, very soon." I give him a pat, escorting him over to his wife.

"Edward, thank you for everything. Please look after my cousin, she is dear to my heart."

My hand slips around Bella's waist as if it belongs there. "She is dear to mine as well. Enjoy Bath; I am sure there is much to entertain."

Bella smiles and waves as her cousin and Whit enter the chaise. She and her mother are both crying happily and I release her so that they may embrace.

I turn to find a miserable McCarty standing alone. Having had enough of his sour disposition, I walk over to him, "Come man, and fess up. I am not only your dearest friend, but I am your cousin. If you cannot confide in me, then I am afraid you are indeed doomed."

"It is a very sensitive matter. I dare not speak a word of it in public." He rubs his hands over his face.

"This must be very grave news indeed. May we meet at White's later?" I ask, realizing how dreadful the news must be.

"I cannot, my presence is demanded at my wife's mother's country home. Edward, I must beg a favor of you." He takes me by the lapels.

"Anything, Emmett. You need only ask." I tell him sincerely.

"Edward, if I call upon you to do my bidding, will you provide a service. No matter how scandalous it may be." He pleads.

The seriousness of the matter is defined by the use of our Christian names. We haven't used them since we were boys.

I think on it for a few, but taking in his appearance, I know I have no choice in the matter.

"Yes, my friend. If it would take your pain away, I will endure scandal."

"Thank you my friend." McCarty leaves the small assembly, gracefully entering his carriage.

The remainder of our party resumes in the parlor. Conversation flows freely between Mother Es and Lady Renee. I am glad that they have formed an attachment. It solidifies what I plan to do next.

Leaning over I whisper to Bella, "Would you do me the honor and take a turn around the garden."

"I would be delighted," she says happily.

We leave the assembly of guests to take a turn around the small gardens of The Earl's London's estate.

"Pray if we may sit for a moment." My nerves take over me as Bella perches on the small rustic settee in the gardens. I pace back and forth in front of her nervously.

Taking a deep breath, I turn to face her.

"Bella … The times that I have spent with you have been the happiest moments of my life. You have shown me that I was a lost soul without you."

I bend down on one knee taking her hand in mine. "My dearest Bella, please do me the honor in accepting my hand. I do not wish to be parted from you from this day forward."

 _ **Isabella**_

My mind seems to swirl through the cloud of happiness. "Yes, Edward it would make me the happiest among ladies."

"Oh, my darling!" Edward stood holding me in his firm grip.

It was very un-duke-like behavior and it excited me a great deal.

"Bella, may I be so bold as to bestow a kiss upon your lips?"

I could not speak. In fear of revealing my eagerness, I simply nodded my acquiescence. Over a month of courtship, and never once have our lips touched.

Taking my chin between his fingers, Edward stares into my eyes. He moves very slowly, tilting his head to the side. A wayward piece of hair falls over his forehead and my fingers smooth them back. Our eyes search each other's as he comes closer to me.

His breath fans over my face and my eyes close. The lightest of pressure is felt on my lips. I exhale feeling an exhilarating feeling zinging through my body. Edward sighs and I open slightly accepting his bottom lip in my mouth. Not exactly sure of what I should do, I instinctively suck it gently.

"Mmhm," he whispers.

I am excited to no end. This kiss, the first of many with my future husband. One of his hands grasps me at the small of my back, while the other works his fingers into the tendrils of hair at my nape. His lips are firm against mine as they mold together. A shock of pleasure runs through me when I feel his wicked tongue enters my slightly open mouth and slides against mine.

I feel so beloved in his arms with his lips upon mine. My fingers tangle in his hair pulling him deeper into me. I feel very wanton in doing so, but I cannot spare the thought.

His kisses trail over my chin and down my neck, I find myself exposing my throat so that he may get more access. The entire act feels wicked, and we are quickly losing control. A clearing of a throat causes us to back away from each other.

"Excuse my intrusion. Carlisle and I are taking our leave. But, pray tell was that a celebratory kiss?" Lady Esme stares at us expectantly.

I turn away from her, a little embarrassed about being caught in a compromising position with her son for all intents and purposes. I try to hide into his cravat; my body flush against his, wishing I could disappear.

"Mother Es, I must speak with The Earl before I confirm anything. May I call upon you and Carlisle after I have a word with him?" He says, causing me to feel the vibrations from his chest.

"My darling boy! Please take your time. We shall eagerly await you. Please do not dally any longer than you must." She says excitedly.

A few minutes pass until Edward lifts my chin so that we are facing each other. The smile on his face shows his happiness.

"We shan't hide from our feelings. It is only you and I, my darling." His lips brush across mine in the sweetest of kisses.

I sigh, standing on my slippers to increase the connection. His tongue teases against my bottom lips and I open to receive him. We are lost in each other and I cannot contain my delight at this turn of events. I, of course, have feelings for The Duke after discovering that he is very amiable indeed. Now to have uncovered a mutual understanding in the physical … what a pleasant surprise.

Edward gives me a gentle peck before stepping back. "Darling girl if we do not stop now I dare say, I may just attack your person."

"Your Grace, if I may be so bold to say that I would allow it." I take a step towards him.

He pulls me to him with a force I had never felt from him. The kiss he bestows upon me is wild and hungry and I go limp in his arms. My tongue is a prisoner against his. There is an odd feeling in my nether regions and I find myself wanting something wicked.

Edward takes hold of my derriere moving his lower half against mine. The feeling is divine against my sensitive delta.

"Ahh," a breathy sigh comes from my lips.

"My darling we must stop. I do not wish to compromise your reputation," he says against my lips.

"Who cares for one's reputation when there are such pleasures," I whisper staring into his eyes.

His grip on my rear tightens. A feeling of white-hot lust takes over my very being.

"Bloody hell, woman. You mustn't say such things. Come now you minx, I must speak to your father. I wish to have you as my wife in a fortnight if we can get the bands read." He releases my rear, kissing my forehead.

"Oh, Edward!" I wrap my arms around him in excitement.

He returns the embrace and then quickly leads us back inside.

 _ **Edward**_

I stand in front of The Earl of Forkshire. I dare say he is an intimidating sort when the roles are reversed. He peers at me with his hands clasped. There is not a word spoken. I know this tactic well. He is trying to unman me.

I glance around his study taking in the general splendor. The desk is cluttered with papers. Shelves upon shelves of books surround us. A Grecian couch sits in the corner.

Taking a deep breath The Earl brings me out of my observation. "Your Grace …"

"Come now, Charles, we will be family soon. If you permit it," I tell him sincerely.

"Edward, Isabella is everything to me. If you promise to always consider her, to provide for her, to never trifle with her, then, I will grant you her hand. But be warned, I shall challenge you to a duel if you ever harm one hair upon her person." He stands to give me a hard stare.

"You have my word. She is dear to me as well, I pledge myself to only her." I bow showing him how serious I am about the matter.

He strolls over to me grasping my hand. "Welcome to the family, Edward."

"Thank You, Charles," I say, jubilant.

"Of Course, Edward. Let's go celebrate." He leads me out of his study.

Entering the parlor, we find mother and daughter embracing with tears in their eyes. Charles clears his throat and both ladies turn towards us.

Lady Renee rushes towards me. "My dear Edward! May I call you Edward?"

"Of course Lady Renee." I bow and she swats me away.

"You must call me Mama, Mother or Mother Renee. My dear man, I must hug your person for you have made me the happiest of mothers this day," she says, launching towards me before I can even agree.

Charles pries his wife off me, thank the heavens, and I find the misty eyes of my fiancé. I stride to her side where I plan to be for the rest of my days.

"How are you?" I ask, catching a wayward tear with my thumb.

"I am very happy, Edward." She smiles.

I take my thumb with the tear still on it and place it in my mouth staring into her eyes. She gasps in shock and then blushes. My eyes drink her in hungrily, I cannot wait to feel her lips on mine again, her luscious curves pressed up against my body.

"Charles, let's give the young couple some time alone," Lady Renee suggests, interrupting my very inappropriate thoughts about her daughter.

"Whatever would they need alone time for?" Charles teases.

Lady Renee gives him a firm nod before they both leave us. Once the door closes behind them, I sweep Bella into my arms planting a desperate kiss on her lips.

I look forward to kissing her freely when she is finally my wife.

 _ **Isabella**_

It is a good thing that I assisted Alice with her wedding because now that I am in the midst of planning my own, I am a bit overwhelmed. The wedding will not take place until nearly two fortnights from the day Edward proposed due to the reading of the bands, which have to be read three Sundays in consecutive order. Edward and I are currently handwriting our invitations. It is an extremely traditional and personal way of doing things. Alice chose to have the servants do hers, giving all her attention to the preparation of her wedding gown.

I, for one, like the idea of going through every one of our acquaintances and personally filling out the invitation. I dip my quill in the ink, finishing the last of the letters. Edward sits down his quill, flexing his right hand, twisting his fingers to loosen them up.

"Finally, we are done with invitations. All this writing has caused me great pain in my fingers." He stares at me with a look of a lost puppy.

"Oh, dear! Whatever shall I do to make it better?" I ask, very seriously.

"I think a kiss would cease all pain." He's very sincere in his manner of speaking.

I giggle at our game, leaning over to present my lips to him. The kiss starts sweet, his lips slowly massaging mine. He opens his mouth and his tongue swipes at my sealed lips begging for entry. I comply, taking him inside of me.

It is a very personal undertaking, one I find I enjoy immensely! Losing myself in the kiss my fingers grip Edward's silk tresses. I've learned in our kissing endeavors that he very much enjoys it when I grip his hair hard. In turn, he has discovered a particularly sensitive spot between my chin and neck that drives me positively insane when he kisses it.

Suddenly, I am lifted as though I were weightless, and placed on Edward's lap without breaking our kiss. His lips travel sinfully to the spot. My head falls back and I release a breathy moan.

"Oh, Darling, our wedding day could not go any slower if a tortoise was leading us to the alter. I desperately want to make you my bride," he whispers against my skin before he sucks delicately on my flesh.

"Edward ... a sennight is only seven days. Surely you can wait until I'm your wife," I tell him trying not to succumb to the pleasure-taking place at my neck.

Edward returns to my lips. He pecks gently then stares into my eyes. "My love, I dare say seven days is too long for me not to have you. If I may be so bold … I wish nothing more than to be nestled in-between your legs, to know you as a husband knows a wife. I want to kiss every delectable part of your womanly shape, and worship at your bosom."

My breath hitches and a wetness pools in my nether regions, "Truly?"

"Truly, my love. I want nothing more than to be buried in your sweet honey-" I cease his words with a kiss.

It is wild and passionate. His hand takes hold of one of my breasts. He massages it and his thumb rubs back and forth over my sensitive skin.

"Are The Duke and Isabella in the parlor?" I hear mother's voice through the fog.

"Yes, my Lady," Our butler William replies.

Through the haziness of lust, I am aware of the door opening. I jump off Edward's lap before we are discovered.

My mother and Alice enter the parlor. Alice looks a little forlorn but blushes uncontrollably when she sees our disarray.

"Alice! You are back from Bath. Why haven't you called upon us earlier?" I ask rushing over to her.

She hugs me giving a small smile, "We had only returned a few days ago. Aunt Renee called on me so that we can all partake in the final fitting of your gown."

Edward walks over to Alice, "Marchioness of Hertford, it is my great honor to greet you. Pray, where is Whit?"

"I believe he mentioned going in search of you at Whites, Edward," she tells him, removing her gloves.

"In that case, let me bid you ladies adieu so that you all may enjoy dress fittings and wedding talk." He bows to mother and Alice.

"Edward, I'll see you out." We take our leave of the parlor.

Mother gives me a knowing smirk as we pass. In the foyer, William passes Edward his hat and cane then leaves us alone.

"I shall call upon you tomorrow. May we take a turn in the garden? I say it is one of my favorite places in your father's home." He tilts his head towards me leaning in very slightly.

"Pray tell, why is that?" I move in closer to him.

"Simply because I get to kiss upon your lips without fear of being disturbed."

His lips touch mine and I float away. I pray that we will always be this happy.

 _ **Edward**_

The days leading up to our nuptials have been stressful indeed. I have not heard hide nor hare of McCarty, until this morning. I received a note stating that he was coming in from the country and would arrive for the wedding in two days' time.

I sit sipping my brandy, preparing myself for what is to come at White's where I am to meet Carlisle, Whit, and Charles for a drink saying goodbye to the Bachelor Duke.

It should be a sad occasion no longer being a bachelor, but I, however, am the happiest of gentleman. Every visit with Bella, every kiss, every conversation solidifies my feelings for her.

I love her.

I plan to confess my love on our wedding night here at our London home, and then I shall usher my wife to Chatsworth where we will spend the remainder of the season and the rest of our lives.

"Sir, your mother is here." I turn from my musings to find Mother Es entering the room.

Jenks is very familiar with Mother Es as he was with my mother and father, having served my father since before I was born.

"Mother Es, what a pleasure. Unfortunately, I was off to White's for the last drink of my bachelorhood. Your husband insists I have one," I tell her pecking her cheek.

"This will be very quick indeed my dear boy. I have something that I wish to bestow on you, in hopes that you present it to your wife." She smiles gently sitting.

Mother Es takes out something wrapped in delicate tissue. She hands me the item and I unwrap it. It is a beautiful hair comb with an intricate design. It is not as expensive as some of my mother's other possessions.

"Upon her deathbed, your mother made me promise that I would give this to you for your wife. It was her prized possession; her mother gave it to her. She loved it as dearly as she loved you. She would be so happy for you Edward." Mother Es, dabs at her eyes with a handkerchief.

"Thank you, for giving Isabella this and for telling me how much my mother loved me." I smile bending down to kiss her hand.

 **~TBD~**

After partaking in an unhealthy amount of brandy at White's, I find myself struggling to exit the coach. Even without McCarty, the night was a delight. We played cards and drank to excess. Even the occasional scowl of Baron Cromwell did not damper my mood.

I am to wed the love of my life. I dare say I need to inform her what she means to me. It has never been mentioned, and one cannot leave these things to chance.

Michael escorts me from the coach to the door where a grave looking Jenks is waiting.

"Your Grace there is an urgent matter that needs your attention," the older butler says.

"My dear man, can it not wait. I am quite foxed at the moment. I'm celebrating, you know!" I turn to walk up the stairs.

"Your Grace, I need to speak to you concerning The Marquis of Winchester." I turn to find a very stunning and expecting blonde woman.

"Dare, I ask who are you?" Of course, I knew McCarty had a mistress. Over the two years of his marriage, he has had a few but there have been rumors that he was in love with one.

Upon my word, he has planted his seed in her.

This is grave indeed.

"I am Rosalie Hale. Your Grace, I beg of you. Emmett assured me that you would help us. I had nowhere to go but here. I fear that Emmett has been harmed." She starts sobbing almost falling to her knees.

"Come now, my lady. Calm yourself. Let's sit by the fire." I usher her into the parlor. "Jenks some coffee, please.

Rosalie tells me the sorted tale of her and Emmett's affair. He was planning on leaving Jessica when he went to inform her and her mother. The life of Rosalie and his unborn child was threatened and he was forced to agree to send her off to America.

Tonight he arrived from the country, begging her to run away with him. They were leaving the country when bandits entered her home and Emmett fought them off so that she could escape.

I rise, grabbing my jacket and hat. I take a few drags of the coffee Jenks brings and I instruct him to make sure the lady is set up in one of the guest rooms.

Finding Rosalie's home in Kensington, I rush out of the carriage running in to find McCarty lying in a pool of his own blood. Michael is beside me holding a gentleman holster. He wanders around the house checking for intruders.

"Rose?" Emmett chokes out weakly.

"She is safe at my townhome. No one will dare come there." I tell him wiping his brow with my handkerchief.

Turning to Michael, "Help me with him, we must get him seen by a doctor immediately."

 _ **Isabella**_

I am floating on love as I partake of the morning meal with my family. Tomorrow I shall marry Edward.

My love.

How I do, love him. It seems to have snuck up on me and now I never shall part from him.

"Bella you should stop daydreaming over your future husband. He will be all yours before you know it." Alice gives me a playful wink.

She decided to stay with me up until the wedding and I am glad that I have her to keep me company and worry free.

A commotion is heard at the door and soon the Baron Cromwell bursts inside.

"What is the meaning of this?" My father stands to stare daggers at The Baron.

"Pray forgive me but a rather urgent matter has come to my attention. I detest bringing bad news, but I must warn you and your family that The Duke of Devonshire has duped you all. He is, as we speak, entertaining his mistress Rosalie Hale, who is in a delicate condition."

The room falls silent as I grip my stomach, which seems to want to recall my breakfast. Standing, I try to take my leave, but I do not take two steps until I lose my footing altogether and darkness takes over.

 _ **Edward**_

It is late afternoon when the doctor exits McCarty's room at my London Townhome. He informs us that Emmett will heal; he was just badly beaten. Rosalie exhales, a sob taking over her. I dismiss the doctor and then rush over to comfort her. I have tried to urge Rosalie to eat something in her delicate condition, but she is too distraught over McCarty.

She really does care for him deeply.

Thinking of love, my one thought is that I must see Bella to let her know that all is well. I really just need my arms around her to calm my nerves.

A loud knock on the door disturbs the peace and soon Charles enters the room. My arms are around the lady but only for comfort. I can see the emotion on his face and I stand to defend.

"Sir, it is not what it seems," I beg of him.

"I trusted you! You gave me your word that you would never betray Bella and then a report of the most alarming nature reaches us. That you have a mistress and she is with child." He charges towards me standing toe to toe.

"It is not true. Rosalie is a friend of a friend and I am nearly assisting them both. Isabella is my heart. You must hear me, Charles. I love her," I tell him most sincerely.

A hint of panic runs through me as he steps away.

"It is too late. Isabella would like to call off the wedding. The Ton is bursting with this information that you are no better than your father. My daughter will never be involved in such a scandal." He turns to leave.

"Charles, I assure you that I am not involved in a scandal. Your daughter is my heart. Please believe me. I must speak to her." I follow him.

Emmett stands at the top of the stairs looking like death. "Charles, Rosalie is my mistress. The child she carries is mine. Edward is protecting the both of us by allowing us sanctuary in his home."

Charles stares between Emmett and me. Rosalie rushes out of the parlor to assist him.

"You mustn't be out of bed Emmett. The doctor says you must rest," she urges him.

"I will not allow Edward to lose Bella because of me. I've never seen him so happy in all my years."

I turn to look at Charles, who has a very somber look on his face.

"Tell me true, is it too late?" I ask of him.

He nods his head.

I rush out.

I cannot lose her.

I love her.

I love her.

 **~TBD~**

I rush into the parlor to find the ladies surrounding Bella. She is consumed with fits. She looks up into my eyes and my heart breaks. I rush to her dropping to my knees.

"Darling, please hear me, I beg of you." I grasp her hands.

She snatches them out of my grip and turns away from me.

"On my life, there is no woman for me but you. I love you Isabella most ardently with every part of my being." I let the tears fall freely.

"Lies! You have never once said you loved me! Go back to your whore!" she yells and then falls into another bout of tears.

I am vaguely aware of both Alice and the Lady Renee standing to leave the room. There is some commotion at the door as I bury my face in her skirts as if I was a boy.

"Please, hear me. I love you, Bella. The woman at my house, Rosalie, is not my mistress. She is with Emmett's child and I am only protecting them both. Upon my honor, you must believe me." I cry like a baby, burying my face deeper in her skirts.

"He speaks the truth, Isabella. I have talked to Emmett and Rosalie. Edward is only assisting them so that they can escape his wife and her family." I hear Charles's voice.

I'm aware of doors closing. Then I feel fingers weave through my hair. I look up into the tear-streaked face of the love of my life.

"Truly, you love me?" she asks.

"With every piece of my soul. You are the only one for me. Please marry me tomorrow." I beg.

"Of course, I will marry you!" She jumps into my arms catching me off balance.

I catch her and without hesitation merge my lips to hers.

 _ **Isabella**_

My new home at Chatsworth Castle is magnificent. It is a grand old castle that has been in the Masen family for centuries. The windowsills are covered with a thin layer of gold. . The vast, ornately painted entry hall greets us as we arrive. There are over one hundred opulent rooms throughout the castle, each decorated to showcase the grandeur.

The grounds are just as elegant; sixteen hundred species of trees, seventy sculptures and a nine-hundred-foot long pond that is built higher than the lawn behind it so that the house appears to be floating on glassy water.

It is very overwhelming even with Edward by my side.

Edward, my husband.

I lie back waiting for my husband to join me for our first night as husband and wife. We have indeed been married three days, but we have traveled the entire time to Devonshire. We left London after the wedding breakfast. However, we did stop in to pay Rosalie and Emmett a visit.

A sound coming from the dressing room catches my attention and I turn to find my husband entering. Our eyes lock and he strolls over to the bed.

He is a glorious specimen of a man. He wears nothing but his long shirt and my eyes greedily take in his form.

He slips into the bed eyeing me hungrily.

Pulling the cover back, he takes in the sheer chemise I am wearing. Mother Es presented it to me as a wedding gift. I dare say he must like it because he cannot stop staring.

"You are beautiful, my Duchess," he says as he sweeps down and takes my lips.

We move as one as if we have always been so intimate with one another. Edward's fingers ghost over my leg causing a delicious feeling.

Lifting my chemise, he ceases our kiss.

"Pray, may I undress you, my love?" he asks gently.

I nod my head in acknowledgment, unable to find my voice. The chemise is lifted from my person and I am entirely exposed to my husband for the first time.

His eyes glide up and down my person, causing my nipples to harden upon inspection. I can feel the blush upon my cheeks. Edward bends down kissing the peaks of my breasts causing a divine feeling inside of me.

One of his hands ghosts up my thigh causing me to shiver. One finger enters my moist delta and my head falls back in pleasure. Edward's lips find my sensitive neck, licking and sucking, sending a fire through me.

A deliciously strange feeling accompanies his ministrations at my center.

"Edward! Something is happening," I tell him wildly.

"Let go my darling," He whispers against my lip.

He adds a second finger and hits my sensitive nub with the palm of his hands. My body builds a crescendo and then shatters into a thousand little pleasure pieces.

Before I can recover, Edward removes his long shirt and then kisses my lips with a deep passion. Positioning himself between my thighs, I prepare myself for the pain I know will accompany me becoming a true wife.

Both Mother and Mother Esme spoke to me of what was to come in the marriage bed. It was a shocking conversation, but I am glad that they prepared me.

Looking into Edward's lust filled eyes. I nod my head, slightly granting him the permission he seeks.

"This will be painful, darling," he whispers against my lips.

"It's fine, Edward. Make me yours in every way," I say firmly.

Edward presses his lips to mine and in one fluid motion, he pushes through my barrier. My body stiffens at the pain. Edward stills inside of me never ceasing his kisses upon my person.

My lips, neck, cheek, nose, breasts. He does not leave one sliver of skin un-kissed. After what seems like hours, he starts to move inside of me. His thrusts are slow and profound.

Soon, the pain subsides and is replaced by an incredible friction. The room is filled with the wicked sounds of our joining. I become bold as the weight of my husband gives me a feeling of being trapped by him.

I dare say, I enjoy it very much.

My lips begin to attack, peppering his body with kisses as well. His speed increases and soon one of his hands slips in between us. Edward rubs my nub never ceasing his kiss to my lips. He then bends, taking a pert nipple into his mouth.

He bites and I cry out in ecstasy. My body shakes uncontrollably and Edward speeds up his ministrations.

"Oh! Edward," I cry out like a wanton woman.

"Yes, darling! Yes … Bloody hell, I love you," he says shockingly before his tongue invades mouth.

My hand grips his hair painfully as the same delicious feeling rips through me again but this time much more intense.

Edward collapses on me shortly.

"Your Grace, I shall never let you leave this room," he tells me rolling over and pulling me into his side.

"I shall never want to leave, Your Grace." I turn and place a kiss on his chest. His arms wrap around me securely, and I feel cherished and loved.

And to think I almost lost it all to a rumor.

Then I giggle about the most outrageous one, indeed.

"Pray, what is so funny?" Edward asks placing a stray piece of hair behind my ear.

"I was just thinking of all the gossip about you, the most wicked one was 'The Bachelor Duke will never marry.'"

We both laugh as he kisses my lips passionately.

"Indeed, I have proven the Ton wrong," He says kissing me once more.

I lose myself in my husband; all talk of rumors and the Ton forgotten.

The End.


End file.
